Terrible Things
by takingflight
Summary: The adventures and misfortunes of Adeline Cherie Blanc, french Dhampir extraordinaire. Read inside AN first. AU. Set before the last book.


**Read bottom for AN. Tells you what the flip is going on yano.**

**The character Adeline is mine, the others are made up by me and friends.**

**But that goes into the AN. SO READ IT.**

**I do not own or blahblah Vampire Academy. Just this story.**

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**A story that doesn't include magical fairy godmothers or prince charming is called reality. My reality started on a rainy London night, July 29th, 1990...**

The woman pushed, pushed as hard as she could. Her face started turning a bright red, scrunched up with effort. Suddenly, she let out a breath, panting and laying her head back. Not a moment later, a cry was heard, the piercing cry of a newborn breathing in air for the first time. The French woman cried, happy tears rolling down her face as another pulse of pain hit. She winced, and breathed in carefully, like she was told. She wasn't done, one more _petite fille chérie_ needed to have that breath of air also.

So she pushed, Jean Dianne Blanc pushed with all her might for her child, her _bebe_. The high pitched cry resonated throughout the room, and at last, both her children were born. Exhausted, Jean laid down on her bed, smiling brightly while reaching out with her hands for her babies.

"_Mes bébés, où mes petites filles chéries sont_?" she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

She then felt a bundle put in her arms, just one. Alarmed, Jean looked around for the doctor, the nurse, anyone. She found the eyes of the man that fathered her children, the love of her life, William Dashkov, Royal-Moroi-Vampire. She loved and trusted him unconditionally, ever since that day she met him at the University library, where his charming smile won her over in a heartbeat. She found him holding another bundle, another child, and Jean smiled, her brief panic gone.

"May I see her too, William?" she asked, holding her own bundle closer to her face, taking in the girl's dark curls and soft sleeping expression. The man then put the second child in her arms, and Jean was shocked to find her a blonde.

She laughed; one looked more like her father, while the other looked more like her. She hugged them both her being, whispering soft words of love and affection.

"_Vous êtes les deux ma vie maintenant, rien n'a d'importance mais mes filles chéries_." She kissed them each on the forehead before her lover took the girl he was holding before. Startled, she looked up at him to find no trace of the man she loved. This was a stranger, with hard green eyes that glared at her with disgust.

Jean was shocked at the next words that came out of his mouth.

"I'm leaving, and I'm taking this child with me. Never tell the other about this one, to her, she is dead. If you ever tell her, I will kill you and the child, you understand? You will never see me or this one ever again."

His words hit Jean like a knife through her heart, and she nearly screamed.

"No, no. This can't be! You love me, I love you. It's our child; you can't take her, she's my baby, please. Don't do this!" Jean cried, hot tears rolling down her face, and she tried to get up, but the strength to do the task was too much for her.

So she yelled at him, sobbed, and held her only child to her as she saw him leave without a glance back.

**I was three years old when my mother told me my father left us, that there was never going to be a daddy to finally walk through that front door, and my sister, my twin died during birth…**

"Momma! Look, look what I found!" I jumped up and down excitedly, tugging on my momma's shirt.

My mother turned to me, her face smiling, but her eyes still held that eternal pain that never seemed to go away, no matter what I did.

"Oh _cherie_, that's wonderful. Where did you get that cute little doll?" She ruffled my hair, the smell of dinner clinging to her clothes. Less enthusiastic than before, I muttered, "In this one place. This...girl gave it to me. She didn't want it anymore." I looked away, not wanting my momma to know the truth.

But she saw right through me, and she sighed. "You stole the doll, didn't you? Adeline, how many times have I told you? Stealing is wrong! You can't go around taking other people's things like that." She shook her head and went back to making dinner.

Guilt spread to me, like it always did when I disappointed mother. "Well, it's not like I have a daddy to buy me dollies! And you can't even get me one!" I yelled back, running to my room, crying.

I knew I was acting childish, but I was only seven and deserved to throw fits. I sniffled and held the doll closer, fixing her clothes and hair, while small tears ran down my face. "I'm going to name you Jennie. OK You'll be my best friend, and my sister. You'll never leave me, you'll always be with me...Don't leave me..." A sob escaped my throat and I held on to Jennie as if my life depended on it.

Night settled and I snuck out of my room, clutching Jennie tightly.

I tip toed past my mother's door, making sure she was asleep, and ran out the door. Once outside, I took a look at our house.

Our old, shack is more like it, I thought. We lived in the Eastern part of London, where the poor lived.

Momma couldn't make enough money for us to move anywhere, so we stayed here, in our shack of a home. Be grateful you even have a home, my momma would say, but I wanted more. I wanted bigger, better things in my life.

I just had this feeling that I should be living on the West side of London. That somehow, I was switched during birth and was supposed to be the princess.

I climbed on top of the roof, making sure Jennie was secure to my belt. Like a monkey, I pulled myself up, and sat down by the edge of the roof.

There, I took Jennie out and talked to her all night, telling her all the things I did that day. How I beat up this kid for calling me a boy just because I could run faster than all the boys in my class. He deserved it, the twit, but momma got a call from school and wasn't too happy about it. I thought that when she saw the doll she would cheer up, but she didn't, when she found out I stole it from that nasty girl in my class, Cyndi. I don't really have any friends; everyone didn't like me for some reason.

After I was done with that subject, I told her how I never really knew my father and how I lost a sister before I even had one.

How momma always seemed sad, she was never completely happy, even when I got good grades. There was always this sadness to her eyes, this hidden grief she held, and I wished I could take it away. That's why I stole things, bread, clothes, kitchen tools, anything to help momma out. But each time, she would find out the truth of how I got them, and shake her head. "I can never make her happy, and that's all I want."

With a sigh I got down from the roof and went back to sleep. Little did I know that the next day, my life would change in ways I could have never imagined.

**That next day, my mother told me we were moving back to her hometown. I was puzzled, but excited, finally a better life. So we packed and left the old house, my mother had saved money up just for this. From inside the clouds, I asked her why we were moving. She smiled, a real smile this time, and said, "It's time, that's why."**

"Adeline! Get down from there, this instant! _Vous le petite diable_! We've been here for two minutes and you're already causing mayhem."

I looked down from the where I was, my legs clamped tightly on the staircases' rail. My mother stood at the bottom, fuming, her cheeks turning red. I gave her a giggle, and slid down the rail, laughing cheerfully.

"I'm off, just like you said. _Je vous aime ma mère_." I said softly, in the only French I knew.

My mother embraced me tightly, running her hands through my dark hair, so similar to hers.

"_Je vous aime aussi mon chérie_. Always, baby girl." The sweet moment was broken when the delivery man came in, accidently dropping a box. My mother winced, giving him a small smile and speaking to him in fluent French. I tried to keep up with what little French I knew, but the speed was too much for me.

Instead I explored the new house. It was big, huge, a stadium compared to our old home. She's been planning this for a long time, I thought, grinning when I found a pool in the backyard. I played in the pool until the moving men left, and I ran inside in my wet clothes. The house was intricately decorated, everything perfect and brilliant. I couldn't believe that not a day ago, I was living in a box.

After a shower and dinner, I lay in my bed, with Jennie in my tight grip. Everything's so perfect right now; I don't ever want it to end. Dreams grasped my conscious and I was off...

We lived on the rich side of town, my mother earning the big bucks now in her new architecture job, where all the houses were big and fancy. And yet, our neighbor had the best flowers out of everyone, or so I believed.

So, on mother's day, I decided to use my extra abilities and take a few roses from their garden. My inner criminal coming alive after months of civilization in Paris cackled with glee.

Upon leaving the garden with a hand full of flowers, a girl stepped into my way. A girl I've never seen before in all the time I lived here.

By the time we touched France, I knew all about vampires, and the supernatural world I belonged in.

This girl was Moroi, royal, with blonde hair and sky blue eyes of innocence. She was shorter than me, and looked like the girl's that never got a single stain on their clothes. Her little blue eyes shone brightly in the sunlight, her golden hair surrounding her face, like a halo. She smelled clean and sweet, her skin was so soft I could tell by just looking at it.

Suddenly, she glared at me, and that pretty little mouth transformed into words. "What are you doing in my house? I've never seen you before. Are you new in the neighborhood? Wait, are those my flowers? What are you doing picking my flowers!?" she said, getting angrier with each word. I just stared at her, judging the possibility of getting out of there without fist flying. She kept yelling at me, and suddenly her hand came across my face.

My cheek stung, my face turning red. A fight seems inevitable now, because I wasn't going to walk away without some revenge. I was shocked, this little girl didn't hesitate to kick some ass, and I fought back too. I'd fought plenty of battles in my young life already; I seem to be too blunt for some people.

Eventually, I won, my Dhampir side coming out victorious. She stared at me with her blue eyes, narrowed in thought. The tension in the air unnerved me, so I did what I did best.

I laughed. I smiled and laughed until my sides hurt. The little girl joined me, and we laughed and talked until sunset, when I had to go home. I never knew but that day was that day I met my soul sister, my best friend; Rashelle Nicole Roux. We were kindred spirits, both wild and free-spirited. We wanted more, we wanted better for this life and the world. We couldn't care less what other's thought of us, we just lived.

**High school was our playground. We did what we wanted, when we wanted. We got away with everything, our sweet smiles convincing all the teachers and adults of our innocence. Nothing could stop us. Now we weren't part of the popular crowd, shallow and superficial. We had our own group of friends, and built our own reputation through our mischief.**

"C'mon Addy. You'll be fine, you'll bitch slap anyone before they can even give you a dirty look. Badass that you are." Rashelle smirked, her blue eyes teasing.

I laughed at her, feeling calmer already. "Sorry, it's just high school sounds like a real pain in the ass you know. And after last year, I'm sure some rumors are going to floating around." I grimaced, remembering the last party we had gone to. Rashelle rolled her eyes, her attitude completely uncaring to what I just said.

I gave her a look, and we did that best friends speaking with their eyes thing. Ten seconds later, we were laughing, and giggling, getting our things ready for our first day in St. Anastasia.

Well, my first day at least.

The school was located in the outskirts of Paris, secluded and hidden, yet everyone knew where it was. All the humans thought it was a super-secret, private school for the snobs of Paris, when in fact, the student body held no real full humans, just dhampirs and vampires.

This was also my first day of guardian training, something I wasn't sure I was looking forward to. Sure, I'd kickass before, but this was with actual techniques and finesse, and I wasn't sure if I had what it takes to actually protect someone with my life.

Since I wasn't born in Paris, when I moved here I had to work my ass to learn French, something Rashelle helped me. In a few months, I had all of it down, even the slang. And since I lived with my human mother, I never really went to an actual school for my kind, my mother preferred me in the norm.

It was a waste of time, when I could be learning how to decapitate someone with a pencil. But, I can't change the past, so I sucked in my fear and put on my mask of indifference. "St. Anastasia, quiver in fear bitch. Adeline and Rashelle; are a force to be reckoned with!" I yelled, pulling my arm around Rashelle's shoulder and pumping my other arm in the air, all corny like. Rashelle laughed and added a 'Fuck yeah, tremble hoe!' before we got into the car, taking a look at our homes for the last time till' winter break.

This place is a school? Add plaques to the walls and it's a museum. And I loved museums. Dear God, I thought, who pays for all this shit?

My eyes never stayed in, one place, they continued to scan every inch of St. Anastasia, my mind completely blown out of its confines.

"Feeling faint, Mademoiselle Blanc?" Rashelle asked me with a small smile. I gave her a glare and went back to my adoring exploration.

The inside was beautifully decorated, a hint of old tradition with a new and modern edge to it. I was sure my jaw had been dislocated for some time now, so it surprised me I could even speak a words, nonetheless a whole conversation. "This place is drop dead gorgeous Shelle', how do you leave something like this?" I asked, finally settling my eyes on her, smiling brightly.

She returned a smile and just said, "Because I know I'm being missed back home."

My first day was completely surreal and nerve wrecking, and I knew I was going to love it. The one class that had me shaking a little was guardian training. I hated failure, hated disappointing people, and hated losing. My competitive nature tended to come out when I was challenged to extremes and I had a feeling that it was exactly what would happen.

But I just gave myself a slap and walked into that class, my head high and shoulders back. I was thrown into the supernatural, with expectations of being some guardian. I had absolutely no training, and yet, the classes and skills came naturally to me. I didn't hesitate to throw a punch, or stake the dummies. It was exciting actually. I liked the thrill, the feel of the adrenaline flowing through my veins, my instincts taking over.

My instructor told me to punch him as hard as I could. I knocked him out after the second punch. When he surfaced consciousness, he congratulated me, and told me to hit him again. That was the longest afternoon of my life.

After the first day, everything blurred into one, the days and years went by quickly as I trained to catch up with the rest of my class and learn the new things they were learning. Growing up having to defend myself had its perks; I had the determination and stubbornness that put a donkey to shame. I didn't quit, never did and never will. Then came junior year, where everything changed, the galaxy might as well have teleported to another dimension. And I never saw it coming.

The new school year held a strange air to it.

Like an impending disaster was waiting to happen. Like the quiet before the storm. It was strange, but when I walked the familiar halls of St. Anastasia, I sealed that feeling away for good.

The first day went by quickly and my last class, combat practice, came soon enough. That strange life altering feeling came again, but I shook it off.

Two minutes into the class, my instructor put me up against a guy two feet taller than me. I made a scoffing noise when the guy blew me a kiss, trying to distract me while the fight progressed. Ten minutes later, I was sitting on his chest, smirking down at him while he glared at me with hate.

My teacher clapped, and told me to get off the poor boy and I did, with a swift kick in the ribs. Old man was making sure I hadn't gone soft over the vacation.

Next, he put me up against a girl I've never seen before in the years I attended the school.

She was blonde, the dark blonde that's nearly brown, with emerald eyes, and shorter than me, badly. And weaker, God, how was I supposed to fight her, she's a shorty next to me, my mind screeched. Yet she looks so determined. I smiled, stretching quickly and getting into fighting stance.

"Alright, bring it." I whispered, before taking of at full sprint toward her.

"_Merde sainte_, hello? Can you hear me? Please say you can, shit shit shit!" The girl shifted, her eyelids fluttering open and I breathed a sigh of relief.

"_Remercier Dieu_." I breathed, helping the girl up gently. Her green eyes turned to stare at me, and I prepared myself for a bitching. But she surprised me, instead of heated anger, she was calm and friendly.

She didn't care that I'd taken her down in just a few minutes, she laughed it off. I liked her, she was completely different then I thought.

I'd heard of her before, Estella Prudence Blanc Dashkov, and her name had puzzled me at that time and now.

Blanc, her name had Blanc in it.

I didn't think about it too much because it was a common French name. But it was like an itch to my brain, persistent and unnerving.

After the big fight, we started talking and spending time with each other. Eventually, one of us asked the question that made my world spin a little faster. "When's your birthday?" "July 29th, 1990" Same birthday, same last names; it couldn't be...could it?

I struggled to stay composed and I felt tears begin in my eyes for the first time in a very long time.

I took her hands in mine and whispered the next words softly.

"When-...did you have a sister..,that died during birth?"

Estella gasped and we both stared at each other for the longest time.

I couldn't believe it, it was impossible, but the evidence was clear.

I had found my sister. All the years I'd spent alone without anyone, without brothers or sisters to play with, to mess around in the backyard, to share thoughts and feelings, and spend time with my mother.

So many years I believed I was an only child, and Rashelle was my only friend and companion. Just to have her so close to me, we basically lived under the same roof!

That day, I held my long-lost sister for a while before I was willing to let go, I never wanted to let go after finding someone who was missing from my life for so long.

"We're sisters..we're twins..you didn't die. You're alive and here..my sister."

I couldn't stop the mumbling, and I just held on to Estella without moving. I'd grown up thinking my twin had died, and I'd always felt a part of me was void, empty.

It's because I didn't have her, Estella, my flesh and blood.

Time flew by after that, and soon, Rashelle befriended Estella and we became the best of friends.

Like triplets joined at the elbows and unbreakable.

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**KAYSO HERE'S HOW IT CAME TO FRUITION:**

**I use to RP VA right? My character was Adeline, the narrator of this story.**

**One of my friends played Estella, and another Rashelle.**

**So I didn't make them up, but I'm using them because our stories were kinda joined together when we were making them up.**

**So this story is mostly mine, lol cause I made up the details while I went over the basic plot points with the other girls.**

**Nonetheless, they do deserve some credit. woo~~~~*****

**Anyways, I'll edit the rest and post when I can. It'll take a while.**

**SO don't hold your breath. **

**If you've never read VA doo ittttt, it's good. Although I hated the ending.  
**

**Still good though.**

**PS. I do realize that my Adeline sounds like Rose, and she is based on her. However, there will be some differences. In their lives and personalities.**

**Js.**

**R&R, duces.**


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